


Patience

by Accal1a



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, D/s, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, EWCHD, Edging, Eliot Waugh's Canonical Huge Dick, Face-Fucking, M/M, Objectification, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, QCCOF, Quentin Coldwater's Canonical Oral Fixation, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28385490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accal1a/pseuds/Accal1a
Summary: Quentin enjoys being a brat, and Eliot lets him...for a price.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 10
Kudos: 61
Collections: Peaches and Plums Stockings 2020





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheAudity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAudity/gifts).



> Merry Winter! I hope you like it!

"Eliot." Quentin said, looking over from where he was settled in an armchair reading possibly one of the most boring books on magical theory he had ever looked at.

Eliot ignored him, reading his own book, and clearly enjoying it far more than Quentin was.

Quentin quietly thought that Eliot was an idiot, because the difference in titles was negligible, but then sometimes his boyfriend liked odd things. Sort of like himself.

" _El_." Quentin whined. "I'm _bored_."

"You've been reading that book for 20 minutes. If I have to study, you have to study. We're already breaking the laws of the universe with me reading."

"You study all the time when people can't see you." Quentin countered.

It was legendary that Eliot didn't study in the Physical Kids cottage. Whilst Eliot was very intelligent, he tended to hide it for some unknown reason, and when he did need to study for difficult subject matter he always did it in his room or in the little bubble of a study room which he had created in a long forgotten gazebo in the grounds.

The gazebo had been turned into something of a den. There was plush carpeting with rugs atop it, neutrally coloured walls with abstract art adorning them, and a plush arm chair and a sofa that Eliot could stretch out on. The first time that Quentin had been dragged into the room it made his head spin. One second, he had been running across the grass, his hand in Eliot's and a laugh bubbling out from him at Eliot's excitement, and the next second Eliot had been telling him to take a step up, and then another, and then they were in the room.

The room had the scent of fresh grass, and let in some air, but it was also insulated enough that even in the biting cold of a New York winter it was warm enough to settle in. It had been wonderful to see the twinkle in Eliot's eyes, as well as the slight uncertainty, as if he were worried Quentin would tell him it was ridiculous, or over the top.

Quentin had just pulled Eliot towards him and kissed the worry off his face. "It's _perfect_." He'd whispered against the taller man's lips, and Eliot had given him a dazzling smile that never failed to make Quentin's stomach flip.

"And I'm studying right now." Eliot said, looking up from the book.

Quentin tipped his book petulantly off the arm of the chair where he had rested it, then stood, taking Eliot's book out of his hands, and putting it on the sofa next to them, before straddling his lap.

"I can think of something better to do." Quentin purred.

"Can you now?" Eliot said. "Are you going to make it worth my while to stop studying?"

Quentin lent in and kissed Eliot passionately, pushing him back against the sofa.

Eliot let him for long moments, but finally pushed his boyfriend back with one hand, until Quentin was leant back on his legs, a little breathless.

"Stand up."

Quentin opened his mouth to protest, but Eliot raised an imperious finger, stopping him.

"And strip."

Quentin moved then, comically fast to get off Eliot's lap, reaching for the button on his jeans quickly.

"Slowly." Eliot said calmly.

Quentin nearly moaned right then. Eliot taking charge was possibly one of the hottest things in existence, and when he ordered him around with only single words, Quentin knew he was in trouble of coming in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

He stripped agonisingly slowly, but when he picked up his jeans in a messy wodge of denim, Eliot merely raised an eyebrow at him until he had folded them and placed them on the armchair.

After he was fully naked, he stood in front of a fully-clothed Eliot, anxiously shifting from foot to foot as he was appraised.

"Still." Eliot said, and Quentin tried to comply, with limited success. He could tell that Eliot was thinking on how best to punish him for his brat-like behaviour, and he was simultaneously dreading and excited for whatever his Dom had in store for him.

They only played at power exchange, neither of them wanting a 24/7 lifestyle, and they didn't even always use it during sex, but hot damn if it wasn't one of the hottest things in the world when Eliot was in charge.

Eliot made Quentin wait there, naked, for a full two minutes before he spoke again, Quentin's dick slowly hardening as he did so.

"Come here," Eliot said finally. "Lie down, face up, with your head in my lap."

Quentin frowned, unsure what would be able to happen in that position. "Not face down? I could suck you." He said eagerly.

"I don't want your mouth right now." Eliot said, quirking another eyebrow. "I believe I told you to lie down?"

" _El…_ I'm…" He moved his hand to his dick, stroking slowly, using the small amount of precome already beading at the tip to smooth his way.

"Did I say you could touch yourself, Q?" Eliot said, coming to his feet in a swift movement, taking Quentin's hand and forcefully moving it from his dick to pin it at the small of his back instead.

Quentin gasped as Eliot's other hand came up to fist in his hair, tugging his head back and forcing Quentin to meet his eyes.

"You only touch yourself when _I_ tell you to, don't you?"

Quentin shrugged. "I mean sometimes I do it when you're not around as well and—" Quentin gasped as his hair was tugged more.

"Try that answer again." Eliot said menacingly.

"I'm just saying, El. You're not being entirely truth—" Quentin's words were cut off on a harsh breath as the hand in his hair instead moved to his dick and gave it one stroke.

" _I_ choose when you touch yourself. I choose _if_ you touch yourself. Don't I?" Eliot said sternly, yet with a twinkle in his eye at the same time. He loved this, and he knew Quentin did too, that was why they did it. He knew that Quentin knew he would be begging by the time this was over, and he couldn't wait.

"I don't know, El. It sure seems like you're happy to touch my dick now, you're kind of giving me mixed mess—"

Eliot let go of him, stepping back to appraise his boyfriend. He looked utterly wrecked already. His cock was hard and leaking, his hair was messy, and his pupils were blown wide. He had started to bite his lip, and he was faintly panting.

"Over the arm of the chair." Eliot said. "Hands on the seat."

Quentin shuddered, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

"There we go." Eliot said, rubbing his hand over Quentin's ass to draw out the tension.

He did this for long moments before drawing his hand back and returning it with a resounding crack.

Quentin grunted as Eliot's hand connected, then pushed his ass back searching for another spank, almost unconsciously.

"Greedy." Eliot admonished fondly.

"For you." Quentin panted.

Eliot rewarded the comment with another hit, his face breaking out into a grin Quentin couldn't see. It was times like this, when Quentin just said something so honest, showing the depth of his love and devotion, that Eliot was completely bowled over, that a man so wonderful as Quentin wanted _him_ as his partner.

Eliot slapped him a third, fourth, and fifth time for good measure, rubbing his hand across the reddening flesh in between hits, drawing out the tension further. After a few more strokes, he pulled Quentin to standing, turning him around and holding him close, kissing him.

Quentin all-but melted into the kiss, grabbing the back of Eliot's neck, and kissing as if his life depended on it. He found his naked body rubbing up against Eliot before he even realised he'd had the thought to do so. There was something so hot about Eliot being clothed whilst he was naked, and it was driving him wild – just like it always did.

"I love you, but did I say you could rut against me like an animal?" Eliot admonished, the declaration of love serving as him checking in at the same time.

"I love you too." Quentin breathed, trying to stop his movement. He was truly trying to stop the movement, but it felt so damn good he couldn't.

" _Quentin_." Eliot warned, stepping back.

Quentin unconsciously took a half-step forward to try and retain that friction, but he stopped himself at the look Eliot levelled at him.

Eliot moved back to the sofa, sitting down exactly where he had been. "Shall we try this again? Lie down, head in my lap." When he saw how Quentin intended to do so, he shook his head. "No. I _said_ , face up. Lie on your back and rest your head against my thigh."

Quentin scrunched up his face again, clearly thinking that was a wasted position, he couldn't suck Eliot off like that, but complied with the order, nonetheless.

Eliot looked down at his boyfriend when he was situated, leaning down to kiss him softly. "Don't. Come." He said, when their lips had parted.

Quentin opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but was stopped when Eliot put his hand on his dick. He gasped, his head lifting up off Eliot's thigh to watch as Eliot slowly stroked him, using the precome that was now liberally leaking from him, to ease the way.

"You want me _not_ to come?" Quentin gasped as Eliot slowly ran his thumb around the top of his dick. "Whilst you're doing that?"

"Yes." Eliot said, picking the discarded book up in his other hand. "I want you to lie just like that and not come. Do you think you can be a good boy for me and do that?"

"Yes." Quentin breathed immediately, even though on reflection he was not actually sure whether he could or not.

"Good. Then do that."

Eliot had spent enough time mapping Quentin's tells before he orgasmed that he was frequently able to remove his hand in time to help his boyfriend out. The times when he forgot, when Quentin started to squirm and pant, were fun too. Watching Quentin hold back was a thing of beauty.

"You can talk, Q." Eliot clarified. "Just don't come."

Quentin let out a strangled moan then, lifting his head and letting it fall back to Eliot's thigh. "You're… _fuck_ …you're evil."

"Me?" Eliot said in an innocent tone of voice that was fooling no-one.

"Yes!" Quentin said again, arching up into the air when Eliot removed his hand for the umpteenth time.

"I'm being a good student." Eliot said, waggling the book in his hand. "You wanted a distraction? Well I'm giving you one. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"I thought we'd both… _ah_ …I thought we'd have fun together." Quentin gasped, thrusting his chest up into Eliot's fingertips which were alternating stroking and pinching his nipples.

"I _am_ having fun." Eliot replied easily. "I'm offering you a lesson in patience, and I'm studying for myself. Perfect afternoon really."

"You…this is not _patience_." Quentin whined. "This is torture."

Eliot stopped, his hand wrapped around Quentin's cock but not moving. When Quentin tried to thrust up into the tunnel his long fingers had made, Eliot moved them down, so he was right at the root, holding Quentin's hips down at the same time.

Eliot leant over and ran his tongue across one of Quentin's nipples before taking it gently in his teeth and biting down.

"Slowing things down would be torture." He whispered. "Doubling the time I think you should serve for disturbing us both would be torture. Telling you we had to go back to studying and you _still_ couldn't come would be torture. Do you want any of that?"

Quentin shook his head emphatically. "No."

"Well then. What is this?" Eliot said, resuming his slow stroking on Quentin's cock.

"A… _fuck_ …it's…it's a lesson in patience." Quentin grit out.

"Good boy." Eliot praised.

Time seemed to stretch in odd ways after that.

Quentin couldn't have told people what day it was, wasn't even sure he remembered his own name, he was just a vibrating ball of need. His whole world had been reduced to Eliot's hands upon him, and the mantra in his head that he shouldn't come, that Eliot would make it worth it; but goddamn it was hard.

" _El_ …" Quentin finally sobbed, entirely willing to swear to any deity under the sun if he could just come. " _Please_."

"Turn over."

Quentin couldn't help the movement of his hips against the sofa, so close to the edge he could taste it; but he wouldn't give in, no matter how much he wanted to.

"When I come, you can come." Eliot said, undoing his pants and drawing his own rock hard cock out, that he had been avoiding for the last however long so that he could tease Quentin instead. He took Quentin's hair in his fist, wanting to use the handhold so he could move it up and down his cock at his speed.

"Thank you." Quentin breathed, and he strained against Eliot's hold so he could finally get his mouth around what he had wanted for what felt like hours now.

"Such a greedy slut, look at you."

" _Please_." He begged. " _Please, El_. I want it. I _need_ it."

"You do, don't you?" Eliot said in wonderment. He had never met anyone who liked sucking dick as much as Quentin Coldwater. As if Eliot could say no to Quentin begging like that in any case. He let go of Quentin's hair momentarily to allow Quentin to take Eliot's cock down in one swallow.

Quentin loved everything about sucking cock, the weight on his tongue, Eliot's musky scent, and the power inherent in the act. It was heady, and perfect, and everything he didn't realise he had needed until he got it on a regular basis. He moaned as he pulled back, licking a long stripe as he did so.

Eliot grasped Quentin's hair again, biting his lip. _Goddamn_ this man was good with his mouth. He started to moved Quentin's mouth up and down his cock, revelling in the moans that Quentin was eliciting as he did so.

Quentin couldn't stop squirming against the couch, his weeping cock rubbing against the cushions, the only thing stopping him from coming the permission that Eliot had given him. Only when he came could he do the same.

The way that Eliot was moving his head up and down, even the speed at which he wanted to worship the cock in his mouth was taken away from him. It was far hotter than it had any right to be. All he was, was one long nerve and a hole for Eliot to fuck. Right now, that was all he wanted to be.

When Eliot came, Quentin swallowed down all of his seed, sucking and licking up the spend until there was nothing more. Eliot carefully pulled him off when he became oversensitive, letting Quentin rest his head against his thigh.

Quentin was still thrusting against the couch, chasing his own orgasm, and it was as if he was waiting for Eliot to finish coming, not start, before he allowed himself to come.

Quentin faintly sobbed when he came, the build up almost too much after however long it had been. He rested his head against Eliot's thigh, gasping and humping the couch to ring out every last bit of pleasure in the act.

When he had finally come down from the high, and he was just gasping against Eliot, he finally spoke. " _Fuck_."

"Come here." Eliot said softly, pulling Quentin up into his arms and away from the wet spot further away down the couch. He pulled a throw off the back of the couch and wrapped it around them both.

Quentin went willingly, snuggling into his boyfriend's arms as Eliot stroked his back, up and down.

"Are you sore?" Eliot asked after an indeterminate period of time.

Quentin just hummed in return, warm and safe in Eliot's arms.

"Q?" Eliot asked, a little worried he'd pushed too far, even if it had only been a few spanks, and a potential sore throat.

Quentin slowly moved his head up so he could look into Eliot's beautiful eyes. "I'm fine, El. That was _perfect_."

Eliot's smile could have lit up the room all on its own, and Quentin couldn't help but kiss him again, softly and sweetly, nothing like their passion of earlier, but deep and loving and perfect in its own way.

They sat snuggled like that for nearly half an hour, taking comfort in each other, loving each other, occasionally trading kisses, trailing their fingertips across each other's skin. Safe in their little bubble that had been formed.

"Okay but I really _do_ have to study," Eliot said, laughing.

Quentin couldn't help the bark of laughter that he let out at that. "Okay, _fine_."

**Author's Note:**

> Fancy joining a multi-fandom Discord server where you can ~~squee with~~ chat with like minded people? Have I got the place for you!
> 
> Come and join **The Fandom Playhouse**. You don't have to be mad to [join](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD), but it does help...


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